


Too Late

by kelleigh (girlfromcarolina)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Actors, Confrontations, Dancing, Don't copy to another site, Fluff, M/M, Schmoop, Set around filming SPN Season 4, Weddings, Written long before wives and families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 13:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18344393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlfromcarolina/pseuds/kelleigh
Summary: I fantasize about him showing up to stop my wedding, just so I can say, "You're too late."





	Too Late

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a 'Post Secret' image!
> 
> Part of my ongoing project to archive my old LJ fics. Originally written January 2010.

Jensen wanted bubbles because rice could be annoying to clean up. Jared was a stickler for jelly beans so he could catch them in his mouth.

In the end, they march hand-in-hand into the reception hall to the sound of cheers and a shower of confetti. Bright, prismatic, recyclable confetti. 

It's a party like no other, with a real band made up of talented friends and not so talented ones. Jared laughs and spins Jensen through a dance move while Julie and Misha teeter and fall over the notes they're supposed to be singing. They're kicked off the stage to whooping calls and friendly jeers, leaving Jason, Chris, and Steve to entertain the guests.

Jensen has lost track of the people he's talked to. Sure, he'd painstakingly gone over the guest list with Jared, picked out family and friends to join them on the most important day of their lives, but right now Jensen couldn't care less about the people around him. He could be slow dancing to silence in an empty room, so long as he had his partner. The only person he cares about is right in front of him, arms wrapped around Jensen's waist as they sway to a slow guitar; Jared is his now and Jensen never wants to go anywhere without him. He doesn't even want to go back to the grooms' table without Jared walking beside him, smiling as if the room was lit on his grin alone.

All the action's back on the dance floor—Aldis appointed himself as Master of Ceremonies and he's got everyone _shakin' their thangs_ , including Jared's grandmother. Boy, does Jensen regret letting Jared give Nana Padalecki a Red Bull right before the reception.

Away from the bumping and laughing that makes up ninety percent of wedding dances, Jensen gets pulled close, unresisting.

"Is this everything you wanted?" Jared asks—there's no one around to disturb them.

"And more," Jensen answers. "You?"

Jared simply keeps smiling and moves with him, dancing to a song only they can hear—they're certainly not hearing Chris and Jason strum and rock their way through 'Stayin' Alive.' Jensen may never admit it out loud to anyone but Jared, but one of the greatest things about ending up with a guy is being able to hold someone, and be held at the same time. Cheesy but true, Jensen loves how he's able to reel Jared in and feel strong arms wrap around his shoulder. Not that just any strong arms would suffice. Jared's arms have supernatural cuddling, manhandling, and flailing powers in amongst the muscle, under his skin.

He uses the break, time away from friends and excited family, to think back over the day. From waking up and finding Jared already bouncing around their bedroom, full-out spazzing over their brand new suits, to the ceremony. It had been short and sweet, but the entire time Jensen wondered how brides and grooms put up with it. Through speeches, readings, and rituals, all Jensen wanted to do was leap across the few feet separating him from Jared and _scandalize_ everyone. Jared might be everyone's friend, the good guy to trump all the other good guys, but Jensen got to _marry_ him. He's a damn lucky bastard.

And then Jared suddenly stops moving with Jensen, his eyes snagged on something over Jensen's shoulder. There, wearing a navy suit, stands a man who'd consumed three years of Jensen's life. Eric Plasters had consumed, cheated, and taken from Jensen, giving back just enough to keep the two of them together. That was, until Jensen's best friend opened his eyes and won over his heart with a confession and a single kiss. _Jared_.

Jared, who's still staring, muscles tense where Jensen's hand covers his forearm.

When Eric's eyes come up to meet Jensen's, a thousand little thoughts shoot through his head. He remembers how the bitter fragments of his heart insisted on revenge. No one who stole that much from Jensen should get away with it. All before Jared turned his head to better things, happier pursuits.

"Hey Jense. Jared." Eric doesn't sound at all like the brash, impulsive man Jensen used to imagine building a life with—when he wasn't trying to find ways to make up for Eric's faults and tantrums.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Jared bristles.

"A buddy of mine is the chef for the hotel—he sort of let it slip that you were having your reception today."

"Jesus, Eric."

"Hold it, don't freak out," Eric says, waving them back, and Jensen has to laugh. No way in hell could Eric's sudden appearance force him to "freak out" and ruin what's been the most amazing day of his life.

A cheer goes up from the dance floor—Aldis is keeping everybody occupied so no one notices the standoff by the grooms' table. Good thing, Jensen would hate for anyone to catch Eric here and cause a scene. Jared's not the only one who worked to pull Jensen out of his misery years ago.

"It's stupid, I get that, but I wanted to make sure you were happy. You have no idea how much I—"

Holding up his hand, Jensen cuts him off. He doesn't want to hear it. What he really wants to do is gloat, to rub it in Eric's face. Say, "See? This is how happy I was supposed to be." He wants to pull up a list of Jared's qualities and show Eric in just how many ways he falls short. That Jared is who Eric was supposed to—

No. Oh God, no. That's horribly wrong. Jensen forces himself to stand still when all he wants to do is turn around and drag Jared away from Eric. Eric should never be Jared. Eric could _never_ be Jared.

Eric's still waiting, standing uncomfortably on their mostly deserted side of the ballroom.

"I'm not staying," Eric starts over, his sandy blond hair cropped shorter than Jensen remembers, his brown eyes full and regretful.

"I know," Jensen acknowledges. Where others might have given Jensen and Eric privacy to speak, Jared never leaves his husband's side. God, Jensen loves him so fucking much.

"I just wanted to see—I wanted to know if we could ever...shit, Jense—" Eric cuts himself off, voice going tight. Jensen almost wants to help him.

Almost.

"You're too late."

The words Jensen has wanted to say for so long fall tonelessly from his lips. He couldn't have stopped them no matter how much he tried not to let the spite win out. Eric merely nods.

"Fuck," Eric nearly smiles. "Yeah, I know that too."

"I'm not sure exactly what you needed to see," Jensen says evenly, "or what you hoped to get from coming here, but I think you need to go."

Eric looks between Jared and Jensen, so close together that his eyes barely need to shift. There's nothing left for him to say, nothing Jensen can stand to hear.

Jensen's ex takes one last look, preserving him or remembering him, Jensen doesn't really care.

He's not the same person he was when Eric left him. Jared had picked up the shattered pieces, cutting himself more than once on the ragged shards, and tried to put Jensen back together. It only figured that the finished product would come out a little differently. Better. And now Jensen stands here, united with Jared, and finally complete with that last, small piece of silver wrapped around his finger.

Jensen studies Eric, so many flaws where there was once a masterpiece. Finally, just as Jared's fingers tighten uncomfortably at Jensen's hip, Eric clears his throat.

"Take care, Jense." Simple. That's all Eric needs to say, and he walks out of the ballroom. Jensen's eyes don't follow him. He's looking at Jared, finding no judgment in his hazel eyes.

Jared isn't marrying a saint. He's marrying a man who would choose coffee over sex depending on how he feels in the morning. A man who's a decent actor, but who still can't keep a straight face when Jared gets in a silly mood on set. But also a man who had the chance to rip into someone who hurt him, and didn't.

"Jen—" Even Jared's nickname sounds better. Fits better. "You okay?"

He doesn't even hesitate. "Absolutely."

And Jared doesn't question it, kissing Jensen instead. It's been a day full of kisses, but Jensen prefers the ones like this—no one ringing a bell for them to kiss over their Texas filets and potatoes during dinner, no Justice of the Peace telling Jensen when he's finally allowed to kiss his husband.

"So I was thinking," Jared says after leaving one last peck on Jensen's cheek.

"Yeah?"

"About how much time we need to spend here before—"

"Yo!" Aldis' voice over the mic reverberates around the room. "You know I'm gonna keep y'all dancing until your feet fall off." To his side, Chris and Steve visibly groan. "Dudes, don't worry I have DJ skills. Anyway! Y'all are gonna stay and dance, but I think it's time to let our newlyweds get out of here."

A collective 'awwww' rises up from the guests.

"Yeah, awwwww is right," Aldis snarks. "But personally? I want them to head upstairs before they start doing things none of us want to see!"

When this is over, after Jared and Jensen get back from New Zealand, he'll consider suitable punishment for Aldis. Until then...

"Ready for our first night?"

The way Jared says it, low and private, has all sort of possibilities coming to mind, and Jensen doesn't bother answering. He's dragging Jared out of the ballroom, debating how quickly he can get their suits off once they get to their hotel suite. No matter how expensive the designer suits were, they'll still look better coming off than they ever did on.

There's no confetti flying when they leave, but there are still plenty of cheers.

FIN.


End file.
